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With a deep breath in, I garnered all my willpower and pushed down the anxiety that had once again flared inside me. Then I headedstraight to my own potential dumpster fire. Avery, having already finished filling her plate of food, was now sitting at a table, surrounded by kids. Either she was attempting to be social with the coaches’ wives, since they were the only adults close by, or she was avoiding me. I typically wouldn’t go anywhere near the kids’ table.
Why would I want to hang out with some guy’s wife? And kids were pretty much petri dishes teeming with bacteria.No, thank you.
Yet here I was, striding through the crowd across the navy carpet of the team room.
Avery wasn’t looking my way, but by the sudden tightness in her shoulders, she sensed me as I approached. Thankfully, she stayed seated rather than fleeing from the room.
“Hey, Blondie.” I dropped into the empty chair beside her, nudging her shoulder as I went.
The hair at the back of my neck prickled, as if I was being watched, but I didn’t turn and search for the culprit. Half the team was probably looking at me. It took some fucking balls to sit with Tom Wilson’s daughter. And that was for any run-of-the-mill player. Me? I might be signing my own death warrant by talking to this woman. I was the guy coach Wilson wanted off his team because he thought I was more trouble than I was fucking worth.
It wasn’t my fault the guy hadn’t bothered to get to know me.
“Chris.” She wasn’t looking at me, but a flush crept up her neck as I watched her.
Holding back a grunt, I gave her a once-over, unable to look away from the swell of her breasts just visible above the scoop of her shirt as they turned the same pretty shade. Damn. She’d looked just like that right after she came.
My body tightened in response to the memory.
I swallowed hard and shifted in my seat, hoping to make my jeans more comfortable.
What was it about Avery that had this effect on me?
I didn’t have the best track record with women. I wasn’t the type to be another notch in a woman’s bedpost, but I wasn’t the nice guy a woman wanted to bring home to mom and dad. Normally, I left prettyquickly after a hookup, or I’d usher the woman out the door when we woke up. It wasn’t a thing.
However, waking up without Avery that morningwasa thing. And every time I’d seen her since, I’d gotten more addicted. And I needed another hit of this woman.
“Did you come over for a reason?” she gritted out, like she was clenching her jaw. “Because you know exactly why this can’t be a thing.”
Yes. Her dad hated me, and there were some vague rules about not fraternizing. Although could it even be considered fraternizing if Avery didn’t work for the team?
Instead of getting tense, I sat back, rested my hands on my lap, and tapped my right pointer finger twice on my left wrist. “Did you just imply that you’re too good to talk to simple baseball players like me, Dr. Wilson?”
Her blue eyes shot my way. “I didnotsay that.” Her brows were pulled low like she was frustrated, but that only encouraged me. I really liked teasing her.
“I love how your baby blues spark when you’re turned on.”
“I’m annoyed.” She set her fork down and rested her arm on the table.
It wasn’t close enough to touch my own arm, but I could feel the heat radiating off her, and that did nothing to help me control the need that was clawing at me now that I was in her proximity.
She glared up at me, but her long lashes made it impossible for her to look menacing. They were the kind of lashes most woman strove for by caking them with mascara, yet Avery’s face was completely makeup free.
“Hmm. So it happens when you’re annoyedtoo?” I slid my hand a fraction of an inch closer so my pinkie barely brushed hers. I couldn’t help but smirk at the goose bumps that rippled past the silver charm bracelet on her wrist and up her arm.
She might be annoyed, but that wasn’t the only emotion she had for me.
This thing between us was a third person at the table.
Hell, I was annoyed too. Annoyed with her for disappearing on me.Pissed off that her dad’s unfair opinion of me carried more weight with her than what she’d learned about me herself. But maybe if we started over, slowed down so she could see who I was…
“How’s Puff Daddy?” The bird seemed like a safe topic.
“Puff Daddy?” Her brow creased. “The puffin?”
I nodded. I might have named him in my head. “He’s at the Boston Zoo with you, right?”
She lowered her chin and pressed her lips together. Skeptical, I guessed.
